


Du Sang

by Trashstille



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, hannigram - Fandom, will graham - Fandom
Genre: Blood, Knife Kink, M/M, Smutish, scalpel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28400535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashstille/pseuds/Trashstille
Summary: Will Graham comes over for dinner but Hannibal wants him to stay for dessert
Relationships: hannigram
Kudos: 7





	Du Sang

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is one shots idk, I haven’t posted anything in like two years and I might not post for two more years. Does anyone still go on this website anymore? Anyway, enjoy this. Big trigger warning for blades and blood and harm and stuff.

“Why am I really here, Doctor Lecter?” 

Will Graham was firmly planted in his seat. His eyes were fixated on the spread in front of him: liver, peas, and other indiscernible delicacies carefully plated to perfection on a China white surface. His invitation to an intimate dinner at Doctor Lecter’s left him rather unsettled and tense. Not that Will Graham wasn’t already unsettled and tense, however, him and Hannibal’s symbiosis was one that left him shook to his core. Will never dared to meet his gaze, not during business nor recreational time. Therapy became routine, but there was another layer of dependency that Hannibal began to exhibit. Something more... carnal.

“Will Graham,” he began after slowly dabbing the corner of a handkerchief to the corners of his lips. “It’s my responsibility to look after you, Mister Graham. Jack Crawford has asked-“

“Since when does Jack Crawford care about me when I’m not on the field?”

“Since your increase in... episodes, Mister Graham.”

Will scoffed as he toyed with the food on his plate. He poked the slivers of dark, rich meat with his sleek fork, dragging the tender piece across a small pool of sauce. It left a streak on the plate, almost as if he had taken Hannibal’s work of art and slid his hands down his canvas.

“He thinks I’m crazy.” Will averted his eyes from Doctor Lecter, who was now pacing around the table to pour Will a cup of red wine. 

“There will be no further discussion of whether or not your mind has wandered beyond bounds. This is not your therapy hour. This is simply dinner with a friend.”

“So I’m your friend, is what you’re saying?”

“Yes.” Hannibal gently tipped the bottle as he held Will’s glass. The dark red liquid seeped out almost effortlessly and caressed the inside of the glass until it settled into it. “You are.”

Hannibal gently set the wine glass down as Will finally tore his eyes away from his plate. He was at eye level with doctor lector’s abdomen, which was covered by a crisp, striped button down. He could almost hear the hum of Doctor Lecter’s breathing. He was always emanating a low vibration that always felt so... unsettling to Will Graham. A man with such accreditation and reputation, but with a very mysterious life nonetheless. It was inviting, to think about what Doctor Lecter does when he isn’t reading, composing, or cooking. Will felt so drawn to his mystery, his intensity, his hum.

Doctor Lecter cleared his throat, which snapped will out of his devious thoughts. “Taste it.”

Will shuddered.

“Pinot Noir. From one of the finest vineyards in France. An old friend from John Hopkins works as a sommelier and on occasion sends me a bottle.”

“It’s wine, it all tastes the same.” Will slid his fingers around the cup and lifted it up to his lips. He could feel doctor Lecter watching him.

“Maybe you should consider sharpening your palette, Will. Broaden your tastes.” He watched Will slide the glass between his lips and sip slowly. He grimaced slightly but then continued to sip.

“How does it taste?” Hannibal said in a low voice. He smiled. He could feel Will tense up as he undid the buttons on his sleeves.

“It’s wine, it all tastes the same.” Will set the cup down and finally raised his glance to Doctor Lecter, who was fidgeting with the sleeves on his shirt. 

“It’s a shame, nothing excites you does it? Not dinner, not a two hundred dollar bottle of wine,” he rolled the sleeves above the crook of his arm, exposing his toned forearms. “Tell me Will, what excites you?”

Doctor Lecter paced behind Will. Will continued to play with his liver and smudge it around the plate. “Tell me will,” He toyed with his food until he felt a metallic blade slide up under his jugular. Will’s spine clamped up on command as doctor Lecter pressed his navel against the back of his chair. A warm hand reached to the side of his jaw and gently tucked a thumb and forefinger under his chin, pulling his eyes up to meet his gaze. “Does this excite you?”

Letter toyed with the blade gently, not nearly enough to puncture flesh, but enough to send blood pumping through Will’s body. 

“Answer me,” he said sternly. Will’s eyes darted to the side, and then he sighed quickly. 

“Yes,” Will whispered in a short breath. 

“Are you afraid of the pain? Are you afraid of the slow drainage from your body if I take this blade and I slide it so gently across this skin?” Doctor letter lifted the scalpel and slowly slid the top from one side of Will’s neck to the other. “Or are you afraid that once you get a taste, you’ll want more?” Doctor Lecter slide his thumb up to Will’s slightly agape mouth. The warm, calloused skin of his thumb met the soft flesh of Will’s lips. His white hot gasps made Hannibal hike the scalpel up closer to Will’s artery.

Will’s breath trembled heavily. He struggled to find the words and the ability to even answer back. He shook. Not of anxiety. Not of arousal. He simply succumbed to Doctor Lecter’s touch. With the blade still up to his neck, Will allowed Doctor Lecter’s thumb to enter his warm mouth. He wrapped his warm lips around Doctor Lecter’s thumb, allowing him to toy with his tongue.

He could taste spiced pear, herbs, and hints of the staining, metallic taste of blood. He looked Doctor Lecter in the eyes for probably the first time since their introduction. His eyes were dark and haunting. Rich with history, full of stories and mysteries, simply captivating. “Do you taste it Will? Do you taste what I taste?” 

Will was throbbing. His legs shufffled underneath him to try and ease the increased tension within the pits of his stomach. Will shook his head yes. 

Doctor Lecter slid his thumb out between Will’s lips. Will arched his head to meet the skin again, but Doctor Lecter had other plans. He met the skin of his thumb with the scalpel and sliced a small incision, allowing a droplet of scarlet blood to surface. He carelessly tossed the scalpel on the table in front of him and instead slid his free hand to restrain Will’s neck. Doctor Lecter proceeded to smear the small pool of blood on his thumb across Will’s lips, which greeted him with an inviting tongue, willing an eager to receive his aggressive, yet graceful fingers. 

“So eager for me...” Doctor Lecter Breathed as he watched Will close his eyes and accept the slight bloodletting. “I told you I wanted to broaden your palette didn’t I? Will stifled a groan as he nodded. His cheeks hollowed as he coaxed more blood from Doctor Lecter’s incision. 

“You understand Will, you empathize.” He slid his thumb out again, smearing trails of blood and spit from Will’s mouth to his cheek. “Your peers may call it a disorder, but I call it a blessing. You feel so deeply, so intensely. You put yourself in the headspace of someone who could tear another human being apart but maintain a fragility that is intensely debilitating.”

Will budged and twisted free from Hannibal’s grip. He pushed back his chair and stood up on his wobbly knees, which almost buckled under him. He grasped at Doctor Lecter’s shoulder for balance and dug his nails into the strong muscles of his back as he toppled on top of him. Doctor Lecter held him securely on his hips, allowing him to regain his balance.

“I have to go,” Will panted, out of breath. “I have to go.” Will repeated himself as he blinked rapidly and shook his head. He attempted to regain his composure, but the drying smears of blood on his lips were an invitation for more to Hannibal.

“Well surely, you must stay for desert.” He chuckled darkly. 

Will pushed himself up and away from Doctor Lecter, who stood gracefully aside the chair that Will had been sitting in. “This can’t happen again.”

“Oh it will. I am your therapist, will.”

“Well, I’ll get my psych evaluations from Alana Bloom, or, or-“

“Alana Bloom does not understand you the way I understand you. You and I are both aware of the fact.” Doctor Lecter picked up a handkerchief and wrapped it around his bleeding thumb. “You need me.”

Will said nothing. He raised his eyebrows, cocked his head and let out a lighthearted, yet facetious chuckle. “I don’t need to be understood.”

Will fumbled around in his pockets for his keys, sighing when he felt the familiar clink, and darted out of Hannibal Lecter’s home.

He had barely touched his food.


End file.
